


Here We Are Again

by inkandwords



Series: After All [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Frottage, M/M, Smut, Tongue Piercings, atsu fics, equipment room scene, side fic to Chances Are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandwords/pseuds/inkandwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ennoshita drops a bomb and Tanaka tries to deal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One With the Confession

**Author's Note:**

> A few people had asked about the scene at the beginning of chapter five for Chances Are, when Ennoshita and Tanaka come out of the equipment room arguing, so here’s the thing. Can be read as a standalone, but to get the full picture, you may need to read the other thing. haha

“You wanted to see me?” Tanaka asks, swiping the top of his head with the towel draped over his shoulder. 

Ennoshita is finishing up with Yachi, nodding as she points out various things on the clipboard she’s taken to carrying everywhere. He holds up a finger like he wants Tanaka to wait, though Tanaka doesn’t miss the lingering glance that seems to go undetected by anyone else but him. 

With Golden Week now over and the practice matches with Nekoma out of the way, Tanaka figures he can take a breather, enjoy the rest of his time at the lodge until it’s time to get back to Ennoshita’s rigorous death traps he likes to pass off as team practice. 

While Tanaka is pretty impressed with everyone’s improvement, what should have been contentment with the results are put off by Ennoshita’s weirdly distant behavior. Usually focused more than anyone else on the team, Ennoshita has been more withdrawn in the last week, more space cadet that it borderline challenges even Noya’s Buzz Lightyear routine.

He shifts in place and thumbs over his shoulder. “I can come back if you’re goin’ over stuff with Yachi-chan..”

“No, just--” Ennoshita pauses, the quirk of his mouth just on this side of strained. “--let me finish up really quick.” Then he gives Tanaka _The Look_ and instantly, Tanaka feels something twitch underneath the thin, cotton shorts he’s wearing. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll, uh, meet ya in the, uh--” he manages, pointing left, then right, then in the general direction of where the equipment room is located. Yachi blinks back and forth between them, thoroughly confused. Tanaka clears his throat and takes a step back. “Yeah, I’ll be in... there.”

“Five minutes,” Ennoshita says without looking at him and goes back to Yachi and her all-important clipboard.

It throws Tanaka off somehow, but he figures that Ennoshita’s got a lot more on his plate and whatever it is that’s indicative of the odd behavior he’s just put on would pass once he got his bearings straight again. In a few of these instances, Tanaka would get hit with a vibe that puts him out of place, out of sorts somehow, worried for a minute that it might have been something he's done. But whatever’s been happening with them in the last few weeks has been casual, non-committal. Easy yet confusing all at once. Nothing serious or anything that can somehow manage to get him in trouble.

He reaches the equipment room and in hindsight, wonders if he should have told Noya where he’s going just in case someone comes looking for him. But he’s already in the small, closet-like space and he’s too tired to make the trek back into the gym to relay his whereabouts. Besides, Noya would understand. Noya always understands.

_Probably ‘cause I still haven’t told him..._

The thought weighs heavily on him as he hops up on the folding table and tilts his head back, flinching when the table creaks and momentarily has him scrambling to keep his balance. It’s mostly because he tells Noya practically everything, but partially because he hasn’t quite found a way to drop the bomb on someone else still trying to figure out his own shit. Noya has enough to deal with and adding to it just spells out a really bad, really selfish scenario where he turns into an overthinking pansy dweeb wanting to talk about _feelings_. 

A “ _geh_ ” escapes in the form of a groan.

Besides, it’s nothing serious, nothing to get worked up about. 

At least, that’s what he’s been trying to convince himself. 

Everything had been fine. Nothing confusing. Nothing putting him off his game. But lately it feels like he can’t get a read on Ennoshita. Can’t gauge his next move. Can’t figure out if he should say one thing or do another. The bout of hesitation jars him. 

Their newly minted status is still up in the air and, frankly, he’s still pretty vague on what that actually is. There are a few times he’s caught Ennoshita looking at him funny when he’s passed by him in the hall or when he’s hanging out with his own friends. He’s never thought much of it and Ennoshita’s lack of mention makes Tanaka roll his eyes at his ridiculous paranoia. Besides, they’re not in a relationship or anything that even remotely resembles it. Otherwise, he tells himself, he would have told Noya. Probably. Talking is also definitely not on the usual agenda, unless it involves Ennoshita coaxing Tanaka into a filthy stupor as he chases his orgasm. 

“Sorry about that,” Ennoshita says when he finally joins Tanaka, closing the door shut behind him. He clicks the lock and tugs on the handle for good measure. “Did anyone see you come in here?”

“Nope,” Tanaka says and without prelude, hooks his fingers along the hem of his shirt before he tugs it off. “Took ya long enough, though. Thought I might have to help myself before you got here.”

Ennoshita snorts and raises both brows, offering a grand gesture in the general direction of Tanaka’s crotch. “By all means, if you’re so impatient.”

“Didn’t know you liked to watch, Chikara,” Tanaka counters, hinting at a smirk. As if on cue, Ennoshita’s cheeks tinge a light pink, even with his steady gaze. “Shoulda told me. I could be convinced to give ya a show. For the right price.”

“Yeah?” Ennoshita steps forward until he’s directly in front of Tanaka. Close enough that Tanaka can smell the mixture of sweat and the light, sporty deodorant Ennoshita wears, but far enough that the lack of proximity is definitely not something he’s imagining. Adding insult to injury, instead of taking off his shirt as was the usual response to Tanaka’s enthusiasm to get right down to business, his shirt remains on. Like a barrier. “What’s that?”

“I’ll figure it out once you get your ass closer.”

“This is close. Besides, it’s tempting, but I think the Nekoma players are getting ready to leave soon. I’m pretty sure it’d be rude if the captain and the vice captain both went missing without saying goodbye.”

Okay, this is new. 

Generally, Ennoshita is just as willing to get on with it as Tanaka is, but again, that nagging feeling returns. It leaves Tanaka at a loss that he’s sort of just staring at Ennoshita like a fish out of water. 

He gives his head a little shake and reaches out, fingers circling around Ennoshita’s wrist before he tugs him close enough that their breaths mingle. “Not close enough. Now this,” he says along Ennoshita’s jaw, his hand slipping underneath his shirt to rest at the small of his back, “is closer.”

“Smart observation. And people wonder why your grades are so bad.”

Tanaka reels back at the snark attack. Something is definitely off. He pulls away and quirks an eyebrow, confused. “Okay, is there somethin’ I’m missin’ here?”

Ennoshita looks at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing subtly enough that Tanaka wouldn’t have caught it had he not been looking for any tell-tale indicators telling him what the hell’s been eating at Ennoshita’s head space lately. Then he shakes his head with a quiet sigh. “Nope, nothing at all. Come on; if we’re doing this, we gotta make it quick.”

But something in Tanaka makes him press, makes him stupid enough to say something else even with Ennoshita now willing to do what they usually come there to do. He cradles Ennoshita’s face in his hand, idly brushing along his cheekbone as his other hand remains along the grooves of Ennoshita’s lower back, thumb massaging slow circles against the corded muscle. “Somethin’s up. You suck at acting.”

Again, Ennoshita pauses. Contemplates. Leans into the touch for a second and looks at Tanaka like he’s trying to figure the answer to something that goes right over Tanaka’s head. He swallows and Tanaka watches, hyper-aware, as his Adam’s apple bobs in place. But whatever it is that Ennoshita was going to say remains silent as he dips his head and initiates a kiss. 

Slow. Deliberate. 

_Aching._

Something about it causes Tanaka’s chest to contract, the sensation constricting and for a fraction of a second, he can’t breathe.

But then Ennoshita pulls back enough to murmur, “your shorts are still on,” and Tanaka’s brain goes on autopilot. His mouth latches on, finds warmth on Ennoshita’s skin, salt on his tongue. The moan at his ear is quiet, muffled -- something he’s used to so they don’t attract attention of anyone passing by the equipment room door. 

His hands are under Ennoshita’s shirt, fingers pressing into the grooves of muscle hidden underneath the fabric. Sometimes it bowls him over that he’s really the only one who has seen Ennoshita bare, exposed. That the lean cut and well-added bulk he knows Ennoshita works hard to maintain is wasted somewhat under that veil of humility. 

But as the thought flickers into the slowly building haze taking over his head space, he realizes that maybe he isn’t the only one.

His lips move up Ennoshita’s neck, feels the pulse beating under the sweat-dampened skin as he sucks. Bites. Intent to mark, to show that he’s there, that part of Ennoshita belongs to him somehow, even if it’s only inside the small, sweltering room. He tries not to think about anyone else touching him, making him arch in the way that Ennoshita does every time Tanaka’s teeth grazes his skin. Tries not to think about him saying anyone else’s name the way his rolls off Ennoshita’s tongue. 

Tanaka shuts his eyes and forces his brain to do the same. 

He rucks up Ennoshita’s shirt, drags his fingertips over smooth skin before tugging it up and over, discarded somewhere on the equipment room floor. Ennoshita’s fingers dip under the waistline of Tanaka’s shorts and tugs them down just enough to expose him. A groan builds in the back of his throat and Tanaka returns the gesture just as quickly, leaving Ennoshita bare, shorts and boxers suspended just beneath the curve of his ass. Without missing a beat, his hand wraps around Ennoshita’s cock, the pace faster than how he normally begins, but languid enough that he feels the swell is his grasp when Ennoshita moans and sets his forehead against Tanaka’s shoulders. 

“Ryuu... f-faster...”

“We got time,” Tanaka murmurs, his thumb tracing the pre-cum leaking from Ennoshita’s tip. “Ease into it, babe.”

Ennoshita stills for a moment, lightly rubbing his forehead against Tanaka’s shoulder. Tanaka wonders if he should stop, but the weirdness dissolves when Ennoshita thrusts up into the firm grip, pulls Tanaka from his neck, and kisses him. Hard. Rougher than Tanaka is used to, his teeth teasing Tanaka’s bottom lip before he tugs.

“Go... faster,” Ennoshita urges before his tongue slips inside Tanaka’s mouth, noses brushing as he dips his head to the other side.

Tanaka complies, coaxing another moan out by breaking the kiss and dragging his mouth along Ennoshita’s jaw. His tongue leaves a trail up Ennoshita’s neck, nips just below his ear, his other hand grabbing Ennoshita’s ass mid-flex. Ennoshita’s fingers clamp over the base of Tanaka’s neck before sliding up and cradling the back of his head. His breathing quickens, puffs warm air against Tanaka’s skin. Tingling. A little electrifying.

Maybe more than a little. 

“You wanna cum inside?” Tanaka mumbles mid-neck assault, stroking in semi-staggered rhythm once Ennoshita’s hand wraps around them both and helps him up the pace. “S-Shit, Chikara... what’s your... hurry?”

A moan, drawn out and just this side of breathless, slips through and it takes Tanaka a second to register that it came from him and not from the one now gripping his arm as a shudder rocks him. 

“’m... close... little... more,” Ennoshita mumbles with a shake of his head. Then he stills, the vice grip on his arm making Tanaka clench his teeth while he continues the hand job with determined fervor.

A moment later, Ennoshita grunts loudly and arches his back. His breaths are sharp as he rides out his orgasm and splatters them both, the viscous liquid spilling over Tanaka’s hand. 

Warm. Sticky. And just enough to give Tanaka the needed lubricant to amp up the pace without worrying about the burning friction between them. 

Ennoshita inhales and exhales, staggers back a step. Tanaka barely notices, his head lolling back and eyes slipping shut as he continues pumping his cock, twisting his hand and stroking faster as he chases his orgasm. 

Then he stills, feels fingers ghost over his, shifting the rhythm and taking control. Warm lips brush his neck, the kisses barely tangible and dotting just above his collarbone. He sucks in a breath when the sting pierces him and he knows the mark that’ll likely be there, can see it burned into his hormone-addled brain the way Ennoshita brands it on to his skin. 

And he loses it.

Relinquishes control as Ennoshita's rhythm remains steady through the waves that ripple through his entire body, tremors like earthquakes riding the heat that burns him from the inside out. Tanaka’s fingers clench along the edge of the tabletop, knuckle-white and desperate, and then it eases. Calms down enough that all that’s left is his want for air, his gasping shivers. 

“Ah, fuck.” He opens his eyes and stares at Ennoshita, a little high but not enough to miss the flicker of something he knows he’s not imagining. He sits upright and groans from the effort, grabbing his discarded shirt at his side and wiping off the lingering residue. He reaches out for Ennoshita, despite the slight resistance. “Hey,” he starts, eyebrows creasing. “You okay?”

Ennoshita seems to be trying to look at anything but Tanaka. He chews the edge of his bottom lip and Tanaka lifts a hand, brushes the jut of it, something weird and off churning in the pit of his gut. Leaning in, Ennoshita kisses up the column of Tanaka’s neck and stops at the shell of his ear with a murmured,

“I don’t think this is working anymore.”

Tanaka blinks, confused. He shoves him back as he tilts his head. “Huh?”

Ennoshita steps away, grabs a few paper towels from one of the shelves, and silently cleans himself off. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, but he doesn’t look at Tanaka. Then he shrugs. “It was fun while it lasted. That’s what you’re supposed to say, right? When things like this end? I just,” he says, exhaling slowly, “I think we should stop.”

Again, Tanaka blinks. Slow and bewildered, the information sinking in and trying to process. “Why? Did I do somethin’ to piss you off? Or,” and this time it’s Tanaka who forces a swallow, “am I not, I dunno, doin’ it right?” He scoffs and shakes his head. “I knew somethin’ was up.”

“Yeah, well, what did you expect? It’s just a thing, isn’t it? You could do this stuff with anyone.” Ennoshita smiles, a little sadly, and tugs his shirt back on. Pulls up his shorts. “A girl, maybe. I’ve seen you with a few in the halls. You looked a lot more comfortable around them than you did with Kiyoko. Maybe this thing, whatever it is, made you more confident in yourself. I don’t know. But that’s good, right? You should be. If you haven’t noticed, you’re one hell of a guy. Killer spike, too.”

“What are ya talkin’ about? What girls?” Tanaka swipes the rest of the drying streaks off his chest and pulls out one of the extra shirts he’s taken to keeping on the shelves. “I don’t get what that has to do with this. With us.”

“There is no ‘us’.” 

Tanaka reels back. “Then what the hell do ya call this?! I know there’s somethin’ you’re not sayin’ and I’m pretty sure I deserve to know what it is considerin’ you just had your hand on my dick a minute ago.”

Ennoshita finally looks at him, his droopy eyes rueful, pained. They flicker over Tanaka’s face like he’s trying to debate something with himself, a silent war that Tanaka doesn’t understand. Then he blurts, “I...don’t know what to call it! But I know what we are and I know what we aren’t. And I know if we don’t stop, it’s going to keep fucking with my head and I can’t do that to the team. To _me_. To you, either.”

“Do what? Spit it out, Chikara--”

“-- _I like you_. I--” Ennoshita’s eyes widen and he cradles his face with his hands, head shaking. He sighs. When he directs his gaze at Tanaka again, he looks sadder, more exposed than Tanaka has ever seen him, which is saying a lot considering they just got off with each other. “I see you walking with some of the girls from your class sometimes and think, ‘that’s never going to happen for me’, you know? I can’t hold your stupid hand, I can’t kiss you, can’t do anything outside of this room or your bedroom without it being a big deal, without you freaking out. Like it’s some kind of weird thing. I’m just some fucking experiment or something, maybe to get experience out of it, or to figure out something about yourself before you realized this wasn’t what you wanted.”

“You’re... into me?”

Ennoshita chuckles, the sound dry and humorless. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you couldn’t tell. It’s okay, huh? I just thought, put it out there so I get it off my chest and we can go back to focusing on the team, on the tournaments coming up. Without any distractions.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean? You’re the one spewin’ this shit on me after gettin’ me off and now it’s my fault this is hittin’ me outta left field. Why’d you gotta go and make shit complicated?”

As soon as the words came out, he instantly regrets it. Even more when Ennoshita looks at him like he’d been punched in the gut and Tanaka’s words are the weapons of choice. The pain is visceral. Cutting. Deep-rooted. And knowing that he’s the sole cause makes Tanaka’s insides twist and writhe with guilt. 

Ennoshita tries to reach out. “We’re still friends, right? We have a team to shape up if we want to place at qualifiers. I just wanted to... I don’t know.” He sighs and slumps his shoulders. A little lost. A little helpless. 

The exact things Tanaka is feeling, though he doesn’t know why. Doesn’t get why he’s so upset, why Ennoshita ending their casual arrangement has suddenly made him feel like something heavy and excruciating is trying to rip out of his chest. Doesn’t understand why he suddenly can’t breathe. 

“Friends. Right. Weren’t anythin’ else anyway.” And without another look at Ennoshita, Tanaka unlocks the door and storms out of the equipment room, unable to explain the wave of disappointment, of anger that he doesn’t want Ennoshita to see.


	2. The One With the Tongue Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tanaka tries to fix the aftermath of Ennoshita’s metaphorical bomb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a few requests for a continuation of the equipment room scene and after near-daily reminders from [**MTrash (Makaria)**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Makaria/works) (who was also my extra pair of beta eyes for this - thanks, little fry! ♥), I caved. Whoops. Set between chapter 5-7 of Chances Are.

A few weeks after training camp had ended, Tanaka is still no closer to figuring out what the deal is with Ennoshita than Noya is with whatever he has going on with Asahi. 

At the very least, Tanaka concludes, practices haven’t been affected much by his notable outburst or the weird general churning his stomach does any time he’s anywhere near the reason his sleep schedule is now perpetually fucked. True to Ennoshita’s word, he’s kept things relatively friendly, kept it separate from their duty to the team. Even if Ennoshita has been brief with their one-on-one meetings and quick to depart soon afterwards, leaving no room to wriggle in a conversation about things not concerning volleyball. 

In those weeks, Tanaka does what he does best: put it out of sight, out of mind. If Ennoshita is going to ignore what had happened in the equipment room, then Tanaka damn well isn’t going to be the one to pour salt over wounds he already feels monumentally guilty about. 

As messed up as he still is about the whole thing, going about his business in the aftermath of the metaphorical bomb is easier than he thinks.

At first.

He and Ennoshita don’t share classes, don’t generally make it a point to hang out unless it’s to discuss volleyball or when Noya, Narita, and Kinoshita are there to act as buffers and then the conversation sidelines to volleyball anyway. 

He can do this. 

Easy.

Nothing to it.

But the longer it goes on, the harder the not thinking about it becomes. Especially when he’d help put the equipment away, the small cramped, little room reminding him of all the other times he’d spent there. And with whom. Little by little, the not thinking becomes a little thinking, and soon enough, it morphes into full on thinking that eventually, even Noya can’t help but bring it up in conversation. To remind him of what he did. What it cost.

And to help him figure out a way to fix it.

His plan to not think effectively goes down the shitter when he spikes a ball meant for Ennoshita right at Noya and nearly incapacitates him. 

And now, with Noya suspended and banned from club activities, he’s standing in front of Ennoshita, nervous and unsure and completely out of his element, but knowing that he’s also the one person who might be able to help him deal with Noya’s sudden one eighty. To help him keep his shit together not only for Noya, for the team, but also for himself. 

“You got a minute to talk?”

“Now?”

“If... that’s cool with you, yeah.”

“Look, if this is about me being into you or whatever, we really don’t need to--”

Tanaka wonders if it’s possible to be annihilated with the same bomb by the same person twice.

“Wait, what?”

Ennoshita’s eyes widen at Tanaka’s response, realizing too late that he’s probably said something completely different than what Tanaka has in mind. He palms his face. “I-- forget I said that. What did you need to talk about?”

Shifting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, Tanaka scuffs his shoe against the pavement and shrugs. “I just-- I dunno, anything, I guess? Noya’s not answerin’ my texts and I needed--” He pauses and scratches the back of his head, hates the way his stomach twists and turns as he tries to get out something that would make sense, that would sound less lame out loud than in his head. But all he manages is, “--familiarity. Can we, I dunno, chill back at my place or something?”

“So... you want me to be your distraction?”

Tanaka chokes on his own breath and shakes his head when he realizes what Ennoshita is implying. “No! I mean, yeah, but not... I-- not that way.” He sighs and turns to leave. “Never mind. Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about how that sounded. I’m just gonna go--”

“I didn’t say no.”

“Huh?” It takes a few seconds for it to register before relief takes over. “So, you wouldn’t mind--?”

Ennoshita nudges his arm and walks on ahead, quiet chuckle strained. “I think we’re all pretty upset about what happened to Nishinoya. Besides, what are friends for, right? Come on, try to keep up. Maybe we can go over the study questions for your next exam and you may actually pass without having to outpray everyone at the shrines this time.”

It’s moments like these when Tanaka finds he’s missed that laugh more than he’d readily admit out loud.

* * *

 

The tournament loss the week following Noya’s ban leaves everyone a little broken, a little out of sorts. It’s weird enough to play in a match without his best friend, but somehow that only makes the inevitable outcome that much harder to bear. 

As if Tanaka needs more on his plate than the Olympic-sized weight he’s already carrying.

“Don’t look so bummed out, kid.”

Saeko glances at him mid-bite, the sushi she’s brought home still untouched on Tanaka’s plate as he glowers in response. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. But I do get that disappointment, that whole beating yourself up thing for something you don’t have any control over. Something like that makes you relive the ‘what ifs’ like it’s gonna define the rest of your life.” Then she shoves the plate a little closer toward him. “Eat. This stuff’s expensive, even if I didn’t actually pay for it. You’re gonna need your strength to get back up and do it all over again.”

With a sigh, Tanaka picks up a few of the pieces and shoves them into his mouth. He chews slowly and deliberately, eyes casting to the side as a sharp exhale pushes through his flared nostrils. “You happy now?” he asks through the mouthful of food. “And I dunno what you’re talkin’ about. There _is_ no gettin’ back up and doin’ it all over again. How the hell am I supposed to face Noya when he gets back?”

Leaning against the edge of the table, Saeko shrugs and steals one of the ginger slices from Tanaka’s pile. “I meant life, in general. Which means this is also included. You don’t give him enough credit, ya know. I think he’d be proud enough that you guys made it this far and worked hard for it, even if you didn’t win all the way through.”

“I just... I don’t want ‘im to take the blame, ya know? And he will. You know he will.”

“You guys all blame yourselves. That’s understandable. But I was there. That second match was brutal. I watched you guys play and there wasn’t anything else you could’ve done. Yuu would understand that, I think.”

Tanaka takes a few minutes to marinate, to really think about what Saeko is saying. With the amount of time he and Noya spend at each others’ houses, she knows Noya about as well as he does. And the added reassurance helps.

Whether it’s the open vulnerability he feels or if it’s because his sister is really one of the only people who would understand the other things in his head, something else sits in the back of his mind, something he’s pretty sure Saeko would be able to give him a good kick in the ass about. To set him straight. 

He wonders why he’s never brought it up when it’s decidedly a better option than trying to figure out things for himself.

“Hey, nee-san?” Tanaka pauses, fear of opening himself up for more scrutiny making him a little hesitant. “You remember when we used to stay with that one uncle over the summers?”

With a groan, Saeko palms her face, her grimace noticeable even with the barrier. “I’d really rather not remember. He was a piece of work, that one. Why’re ya bringing that up now?”

“The stuff he used to do with those... people. I just-- well, see, the thing is, I’ve sorta--” He makes a vague gesture and then gives up trying to articulate what is obviously a very awkward subject, instead opting to mirror her initial response and palming his face. He mumbles something unintelligible into his hand.

“Did you actually say something or are ya just trying to see if you can make me lose my lunch? God, those summers were the worst. I still can’t believe he’d bring them back to the house. Dad nearly strangled him when he found out, remember?”

“I think I’m into guys.”

It’s a solid minute before Saeko bursts into laughter. 

Not exactly the kind of reaction Tanaka expects, but better than he anticipates even with the monumental amount of confusion he’s currently nursing.

“Is that what’s got your panties in a twist? Aw, little bro,” she says, reaching over and planting a hand on top of his head. “I seriously thought you were going to tell me some big, horrible secret like you watch Japan’s Next Top Model or, I dunno, use infomercials as jerk-off fodder.”

“You are seriously messed up, nee-san. What the actual fuck.”

Saeko seems to take the jab in stride and shrugs. “Okay, but honestly, why would that even bother y--” Then her eyes widen and Tanaka can practically see the gears clicking in place as the reason for his random subject change finally makes sense. “You know that doesn’t run in the family, right? Uncle Hiroshi was pretty screwed up and don’t even get me started on the fetish thing. Point is, you can like who you like. It doesn’t mean you’re gonna turn out like him or any of the weirdos he brought back to his place.”

“But what if I do turn out like that? I mean, how even are you okay with this shit after what we’ve seen?”

“Everything is subjective.” Saeko finishes off the remaining pieces of her sushi roll before pointing the chopsticks at him. “It’s all about how you look at things, ya know? I get that it’s a little harder for you ‘cause you didn’t have anyone to talk to about it, though really, I don’t know why you couldn’t have come to me sooner. I’m stellar at giving advice. And you know I’d never judge you.”

Tanaka rubs the side of his face with his knuckles, a little frustrated with himself for waiting so long when he could’ve nipped this all in the bud from the get go. “Usually you don’t, yeah. But I dunno, this was different. Heavier. I’m already a freak enough as it is ‘cause I can’t keep my mouth shut most of the time and I yell a lot and do a bunch of other stupid shit that-- fuck, I’m gettin’ off topic.” He sighs and meets Saeko’s gaze. “How do get over the weirdness? I just wanna get over it ‘cause otherwise, I’m gonna keep fuckin’ up and pushin’ people away and I just--”

“It’s Chikara isn’t it?”

God.

Damn.

It.

He should have known she’d figure it out. 

With an exaggerated groan, he squints and chances a glance at her. “Am I that obvious?”

Lips pursing as she marinates the question, Saeko shakes her head with a small laugh. “Not super obvious, no. But he and Yuu are the only two who come over a lot and you talk about the both of them often enough. It couldn’t have been Yuu ‘cause I overheard you guys talking about his whole ordeal with Azumane. Which, by the way, you gave him great advice on. So, process of elimination and tada!”

“It’s times like these that I realize how high your level of cool actually is,” Tanaka says with a touch of reverence.

“It’s in our gene pool. Optimal levels of cool come standard with the package.”

“Uh, Uncle Hiroshi?”

“Well, ya know, every once in a while there’s the occasional dud.”

Tanaka busts out laughing with Saeko joining in wholeheartedly. When they finally calm down, he manages a grateful smile. “Shoulda known you’d be chill about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Look, you do you. That’s the most important thing. Be true to yourself, no matter what. ‘Cause when it comes down to it, that’s the only thing you’re gonna have left if everything else goes to shit. I’ll still think you’re an awesome bro. As long as you don’t tell me about your jerk-off fodder.”

Tanaka cringes and flings a piece of ginger at her. “Stop talkin’ about my masturbation material!”

Dodging the flying food, Saeko’s back to her contagious laughter, hand clutching her stomach as she attempts to control herself. “You’re gonna be okay, kiddo.”

With a pensive grin, Tanaka nods in agreement. “Yeah. I think I am.”

* * *

 

Everyone feels the hole Noya’s absence has left and Tanaka finds it easier to cope with Ennoshita there to ramble off to. To listen. To be the friend he’s sorely missed and realized he’s taken for granted.

Among other things.

After the talk with Saeko, falling back into an easy routine with Ennoshita is not as difficult as Tanaka expects. He’d spent so much time thinking about what he’d fucked up, about the aspect of it that threw him for a loop that it’s only recently he’s started to remember the other parts, the good parts that includes the friendship now looking a little more hopeful, a little closer to being “okay” without the underlying weirdness brought on by their previous arrangement. It had been a few weeks since the initial conversation and a solid week since any sort of awkwardness between them had completely disappeared and they were back to how they were before all hell broke loose.

The development gives him something to look forward to. Something to give him a glimmer of redemption for the way he’s handled things with Ennoshita in the past.

“If you take these two passages and break them out into parts, it’s easier to figure out what they have in common,” Ennoshita explains, pointing to the blocks of text in Tanaka’s study guide.

“I did that, but it still doesn’t make sense,” Tanaka complains, rubbing his face on the page in frustration. He groans and closes his eyes, mumbling, “I give up. I’m too stupid to get this shit.”

Ennoshita, used to Tanaka’s spontaneous bouts of inadequacy, pokes the side of Tanaka’s head with the eraser tip of his pencil. 

“If you keep complaining about it instead of trying to figure it out, then I might agree with you. But I guess you’re also going to lose that bet we made that you couldn’t best your last pop quiz score. You know, since you’re giving up and all. I guess that means free food for me.”

The thought of losing a bet reignites Tanaka’s motivation and prompts him to snap back up, eyes glued to the page he’s been staring at for the better part of an hour. “If anyone’s gettin’ free food, it’ll be me. Just watch!”

An hour and a half later, after Ennoshita patiently, but firmly dissects the two passages in a way that Tanaka understands, he gives a shout of triumph, fists in the air when he manages to complete the problem. 

“Holy shit, that was exhausting!” He falls back on the floor, arm thrown dramatically over his face. “I might need to clone my brain cells ‘cause I’m pretty sure I’ve lost a few good soldiers in that boss ass battle.”

Ennoshita laughs and Tanaka hears him shuffling around, likely putting their stuff away. “Never doubted you could do it. And it only took threatening you with buying me lunch to get it to happen.”

The latter comment gives Tanaka pause, makes something in him stir. To anyone else, it sounds innocent enough, harmless enough, but something about Ennoshita’s tone brings back the guilt Tanaka has tried hard to swallow down.

He shifts his arm enough to get a peek of Ennoshita stuffing his books back into his bag. “Hey, Chikara.”

“Hm?”

“About what you said,” he starts, quietly grunting as he props himself up on his forearms. “Did ya mean it?”

Ennoshita eyes Tanaka with a wary sort of gaze before it dawns on him that Tanaka is serious. Slowly, and with tired sigh that makes Tanaka wonder if having this conversation right at that very moment is actually the epitome of a stupid idea, Ennoshita stops what he’s doing, fingers still pinched on the zipper mid-close.

“I’ve said a lot of things. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“The equipment room stuff. At trainin’ camp.” Tanaka rights himself up into sitting position, arms crossed atop his knees. “I mean, I know it’s been months and it’s probably goin’ against some kind of code I don’t know about or something, but I dunno. I’ve been thinkin’ about it and I figured, get it out before shit drives me outta my head.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence before Ennoshita finishes closing his bag. He doesn’t look at Tanaka, not right away, the crease between his eyebrows a quirk Tanaka remembers well. His Adam’s apple bobs as he forces a swallow, but the shrug of his shoulders is slight. Tired. Probably from more than just the marathon study session they’ve managed to pull off.

“Does it matter?”

The response throws Tanaka off. Granted, he probably deserves it, deserves the brush off it’s insinuating. Like he should forget about it, should take the cue and move on to another topic that isn’t coming out of Pandora’s Box. But for the number of times he’s gone over that one conversation that changed everything with one of his closest friends, he’s surprised even himself with how quickly the answer comes to mind. 

“It matters to me.”

Turning to look at him, Ennoshita’s expression falters and though it’s quick, Tanaka’s catches the hurt there, the way he tries to keep it contained. Hidden. The same way he’d tried to do when Tanaka’s knee-jerk idiocy ruined everything. “Why?”

“’Cause,” Tanaka manages to say before he mumbles something unintelligible. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” Ennoshita says and smiles, a little sadly. He gathers up his things and pushes himself off the floor. “It’s getting late. I should go.”

“Chika, wait--” Tanaka flinches at the accidental term, his mouth pressed in a tight line when he sees Ennoshita do the same. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Why are you doing this? We were just starting to be okay again and I--” With a drawn out sigh, Ennoshita shakes his head and slings the bag over his shoulder. “--I can’t have this conversation. I said I’d be your friend even after all that and if I don’t go now, I don’t think I can keep my word.”

“You were the one that fucking ended it!” Tanaka blurts out before he can stop himself. “You threw that curveball at me and cut shit off without givin’ me the chance to process. To think about it. _You_ made that decision. Not me.”

It’s then Ennoshita drops his bag and turns to face Tanaka head on, his hands balling into fists. “What was there to think about? You either felt it or you didn’t. And it was pretty damn clear which of those it was for you, so I gave you an out. And you took it. Case closed.” 

Again, Tanaka is caught off balance. “I--”

“Look, I’m sorry I ‘made shit difficult’. But at least I said something instead of sitting on it and making things worse. It was already starting to affect how I handled practices, how I was in general. I needed to stop kidding myself and get over it.” Ennoshita sucks in a breath, looks away. When his eyes find Tanaka’s again, the fire in them is gone. “I just-- I needed to get over _you_. Can’t you at least let me have that?”

The question hangs there, the purple elephant in the room prancing around demanding to be heard, to be seen. Tanaka debates his next response, debates what he wants and sums up everything that’s been accumulating in his head since Ennoshita dropped the bomb. Then he says,

“Have you?”

The silence that follows is deafening. White noise that crowds his head and makes simultaneously thinking and speaking harder than it should be. 

“Have I what?”

“Gotten over me?”

Ennoshita pales, clearly not expecting the direct response, and for a few minutes, he says nothing. Tanaka thinks this must be what it feels like to wait for a moment that redefines, that shifts with the weight of one word, one look. 

And the thought terrifies him.

The pain returns in Ennoshita’s eyes, the way he clutches his shirtfront, the tremble in his hand visible from Tanaka’s vantage point. He shakes his head, a little mournful. 

“...no. Not even a little. That must sound so pathetic--”

Tanaka shoves off the floor and in the next second, Ennoshita’s face is cradled between his hands, “shut up, Chikara” muttered between them before he’s kissing him. Awkward, uncoordinated, but reawakening everything he’s tried to let go, tried to forget.

He feels the press of Ennoshita’s palms against his chest, intent on pushing him away, on breaking the contact he’s initiated with a few muffled protests. But Tanaka remains exactly as he is, his grip firm as he continues until soon enough, Ennoshita gives in. Reciprocates. Grips the front of Tanaka’s shirt with a desperation Tanaka feels in the pit of his gut as he parts his lips until they’re both breathing so hard that pulling away for air is the only option left. 

Tanaka licks his lips, tastes salt on them, anchoring his forehead against Ennoshita’s while he attempts to work air back into his lungs. He forces a swallow. “You never gave me a shot.”

Ennoshita’s eyes remain half lidded as he murmurs, “at what?”

“Bein’ with you.”

“I didn’t think it was an option.”

His thumbs trace the side of Ennoshita’s face, buys himself some time before he throws all his cards down, makes himself entirely vulnerable. Then he closes his eyes, braces for it.

“What if it is?”

Ennoshita shies away enough to look at him, _really_ look at him, the sudden action causing Tanaka to open his eyes and meet the probing gaze head on. There’s a clear hesitation there, a sort of fear Tanaka understands. 

“What are you saying?”

“I’m sayin’ I don’t want the out.”

Then Ennoshita grins and the knot in Tanaka’s chest loosens, lets him breathe. “Are you sure?”

Grasping Ennoshita’s chin, he leans in to kiss him again. Soft. Slow. Deliberate. When he pulls back, his lips quirk and his hand shakes, but the answer he gives is firm. Sure. “Yeah, never been more.”

The relief on Ennoshita’s face is instantaneous. Like a physical removal of the silent tension between them, the weight of it disappearing as though it was never there at all.

“So, what now?”

“I dunno. I thought you were gonna go.”

Ennoshita bites the corner of his lip, unsure. “You want me to?”

Tanaka wraps his arms around him, buries his face in the crook of Ennoshita’s neck, and shakes his head, response muffled. It earns him a chuckle and Ennoshita pulls away only to plop down on Tanaka’s bed. He scoots all the way back, weight braced against his forearm, and pats the space in front of him.

“C’mon, there’s probably a movie on we can watch.”

Biting back a smirk, Tanaka joins him. He makes himself comfortable, arms wrapped around a pillow as he settles on his stomach and faces the television. “Already tryin’ to get me into bed, huh?”

“Pretty sure we’ve already covered that base.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I was against it.”

“Didn’t say I was either,” Ennoshita says and teasingly flicks Tanaka’s ear.

A short while later, they’re sprawled out, Ennoshita’s arm casually slung over Tanaka as the movie flickers across the screen. As much as he tries to keep up with what’s going on, to pay attention to each scene, Tanaka finds his thoughts drifting to other things that make laying in his current position just on this side of uncomfortable.

A tongue ring.

Ennoshita has a tongue ring.

He’d felt it when he kissed him earlier and the new revelation keeps his brain occupied, so much so that he barely hears Ennoshita’s question before answering with a mumbled, “huh?”

“You’re quiet,” Ennoshita remarks, lips pushed out in the way they do when he’s biting the inside of his cheek. There’s a questioning undertone in the observation, a slight tremor, and Tanaka realizes what his shift in behavior must have implied.

“Just, I dunno, thinkin’ I guess...”

“About what?”

“A bunch of things. How much of a dumbass I’ve been, why that guy in the movie thought it was a good idea to go into the abandoned building by himself when he knows damn well there’s a serial killer loose somewhere, your fucking tongue ring...”

Beside him, Ennoshita chuckles and Tanaka takes to burrowing into the pillow, swears he feels his own face ignite from the complete and utter humiliation at having admitted to thinking about the thing he’s purposely trying to shove out of his hormone-addled brain.

“You noticed.”

“Well, yeah. I had my tongue shoved down your throat. Kinda hard not to notice.”

“Kinda hard, huh?”

When he realizes the implication, Tanaka splutters and glances at Ennoshita from his peripheral. “I-- shit. I didn’t mean hard, like _hard_ , but I, well--”

“I’m messing with you. Chill.”

Suddenly, Tanaka feels something warm against his nape and it takes him a second to recognize it, the quick succession of kisses causing a shiver to work its way down his spine. The spontaneous gesture prompts Tanaka to make a noise that sounds embarrassingly like a squawk, which only further serves to heighten how awkward he feels when he doesn’t know how to act, doesn’t know what to say. “What are ya do--”

“I-- did you not want me to?” The hitch in Ennoshita’s question confirms Tanaka isn’t the only one trying to get used to being this way again. 

“Yeah-- I mean, no, it’s fine,” Tanaka mumbles into the pillow, reaching above him and pulling Ennoshita back so that his lips brushed the back of Tanaka’s neck again. After a minute, he clears his throat.

“You’re still thinking about the tongue ring, aren’t you?” Ennoshita murmurs against him, his amusement so obvious that Tanaka almost denies it just to show him he’s wrong.

Tanaka turns toward him, grunting when he maneuvers onto his back, expression pinched like he hasn’t just spent the better part of the last hour trying not to think about it. “I can’t help it!” he manages with an exasperated groan. “It’s just... fuck. It’s hot, okay? Your tongue ring is hot. There, I said it. When did you even get that thing?”

With an arch of his eyebrow, Ennoshita looks much too amused for Tanaka’s warning bells not to go off. “One of Narita’s bright ideas a couple of weeks after training camp. He said it’d be a good way to make me forget about--” He catches himself, cheeks tinged a noticeable pink before he continues, more careful this time. “It’s not that big a deal,” he says, nonchalantly sticking out his tongue to show Tanaka the silver stud in the middle. “See?”

If Tanaka thought the previous noise he’s made is embarrassing enough, the one that comes out of him now is right on the level of dying-cat-meets-pterodactyl kind of mortifying. And it only gets worse as Ennoshita leans in, not close enough to kiss him, but close enough that his breath is warm against Tanaka’s mouth. A taunt of sorts.

“You are _really_ makin’ it hard to pay attention to the movie,” Tanaka mutters.

“You’re the one who keeps talking about making things hard,” Ennoshita counters, the implication not even remotely subtle.

“But it’s true! Especially when you’re doin’ that with it and makin’ me think things and--” Tanaka shuts his eyes and breathes out a nervous chuckle. “-- _shit_.”

“Yeah? What kind of things?”

“Just, ya know, things... um--”

Before he can elaborate, Ennoshita initiates the kiss this time. Tentative at first, light and experimental like he’s testing the waters, trying to see where his boundaries are. His fingers inch along Tanaka’s jaw before curving around his nape. Air leaves Tanaka’s lungs in a stuttered exhale, but it only takes a second before he eases into it, lets Ennoshita lead. 

With a groan into Ennoshita’s mouth, he focuses entirely on the way Ennoshita traces the split of his lips to coax them open, to encourage him into reciprocating. His hand cradles Ennoshita’s face, feels him lean into the touch as the kiss gains momentum, leaves him a little lightheaded, a little overwhelmed.

And then--

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it?”

Now would probably be a good time to find a hole to crawl into. Maybe bury the hormones undoubtedly responsible for the tent he’s pitching.

“Sorry, instant reaction,” Tanaka tries to explain away with an embarrassed grimace. “It’ll go away... probably.”

Ennoshita dips down, teeth lightly tugging on Tanaka’s bottom lip with an impish, “maybe I don’t want it to,” before he continues kissing him again.

It’s not long before Ennoshita is making noises himself; tiny, quiet moans that stir something familiar and coiling in Tanaka’s gut. He’s not sure when it is, exactly, that Ennoshita has managed to get his belt undone, his button and zipper open, but when Tanaka feels a hand delve into his boxer briefs, a small part of him loses his mind a little.

Maybe more than a little.

Ennoshita’s lips latch on to his neck and Tanaka unravels, his breath hitching when he feels teeth graze his skin, feels the familiar sting that causes a twitch beneath the thin cotton he’s straining against. It’s insistent, hungry, doubtless meant to bruise, to leave marks that make it obvious exactly how they’d gotten there.

“There’s this thing I heard about,” Ennoshita mumbles against him, his fingers wrapped around Tanaka’s cock, actions deliberate and unhurried. “With the tongue ring.”

Tanaka finds it difficult to focus, each stroke making his body tingle, making it hard to concentrate on anything but the way Ennoshita works him into a breathless whine. “What... thing?”

“Want me to show you?”

Whatever brain function Tanaka has effectively goes out the window as he shuts his eyes, sucks in a lungful of air, and says, “you really need to ask?”

Without another word, Ennoshita maneuvers himself lower, dragging Tanaka’s jeans down and tugging his boxer briefs after it. His eyes flicker up and Tanaka catches the intent there, fingers grasping the sheets to brace himself. 

“Are ya seriously gonna-- _holy shit_ , holy shit--” And he arches involuntarily just as Ennoshita mouths against him, makes him tremble. “You’ve gotta be fucking kiddin’ me...”

“Good?” Ennoshita asks, though from the subtle twitch of his mouth, Tanaka knows the question is just for show. 

"I'd almost forgotten what that felt like," Tanaka groans, jaw clenching just the slightest bit as Ennoshita rests his forearm on Tanaka's thigh, his other hand busy stroking him to life.

"Keep going?"

With a muffled noise, Tanaka nods, breathes heavily through his nose and watches with wide eyes as Ennoshita's tongue trails up his shaft, dragging the small silver ball all the way to the beading tip. "Ah fuck, the tongue ring... fuck me, I'm gonna have to buy Narita somethin' nice for his awesome idea."

"What about me? I'm doing all the work. Don't I get something nice?" Ennoshita asks with an arch of his eyebrow, flicking the silver ball along the slit and chuckling as Tanaka whimpers, fingers bunching the sheets at his sides. "Look, I'm being nice to _you_." 

When Ennoshita takes him into his mouth and starts to suck, deliberate and timed to the hitches in Tanaka's breaths, Tanaka unravels. His eyes fixate, half-lidded, on Ennoshita's lips and the way they slide down his entire cock like a magic glove. "Oh dear god... anything... anything you want, Chika..."

Whatever babbling promises Tanaka has managed spurs a sort of intensity in Ennoshita as he licks and sucks Tanaka out of of his mind. Barely managing to hold himself together, Tanaka bites his lip to keep the noises down, in case his parents or sister unexpectedly come home and he’s too fucked out to notice, but Ennoshita seems just as determined to get him to let go, to give in and cry out when he takes Tanaka all the way in and moans around him--

“Oh shit, fuck-- oh fuck, I think I’m gonna--” 

Groaning and arching off the bed, Tanaka’s hips thrust up before the rest of his sentence can finish. He feels his tip hit the back of Ennoshita’s throat, feels the spasms simultaneously ripple through muscle and nerve as Ennoshita forces himself to swallow around him in response. Firm hands grip Tanaka’s hips to keep him tethered, grounded when he nearly falls off the bed. As the final tremors subside, his head hangs off the edge of the mattress, sweat beading along his temples. He chances a look at Ennoshita, the shit-eating grin he wears making Tanaka desperately think of round two as he smugly wipes the corner of his mouth with his fingers. 

“C’mere,” Tanaka whispers, his voice hoarse, throat slightly raw. He inches all the way back onto the bed and tugs his pants back up, hand circling Ennoshita’s wrist to ease him down. “Forgot to tell ya somethin’...”

Ennoshita’s eyebrows rise in that wary way Tanaka knows well, though he complies with the request anyway. “It better be about the nice things you’re going to get for me for being really, really fucking nice to you.”

With a mischievous grin, Tanaka anchors a hand at Ennoshita’s nape. The other grabs his chin as he coaxes Ennoshita toward him, kisses the tip of his nose before nudging it with his own, and pressing their lips together. “My boyfriend’s kinda awesome,” he manages between kisses, “just sayin’.”

“Boyfriend?”

Tanaka shifts so he’s laying parallel against him and takes Ennoshita’s hand. Slowly, his fingertips brush over the open palm before he threads their fingers together. Ennoshita stares at it for a second, a little disbelieving as Tanaka laughs, pleased with the reaction. “You said you wanted to hold my stupid hand, remember?” Then he stops, earnestly kisses the back of Ennoshita’s hand before he continues. “You also said you didn’t know what we are... so, yeah. If you wanna be.”

“Who would’ve known you’d be such a sap?”

“Hey, lots of things people don’t know about me,” Tanaka says with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

“I got all the time in the world to figure them out,” Ennoshita says against his forehead, the kiss planted there lingering as their breathing syncs.

With Ennoshita’s steady heartbeat at his ear, Tanaka’s grin is inevitable. “Sounds pretty damn good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr @ [limitlessmonster](http://limitlessmonster.tumblr.com).


End file.
